


Take Your Time

by TheOutCastAyh



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, College Student Bucky, Comforting Steve, Depression, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking to Cope, Explicit Language, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, One Shot, Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Steve Rogers, Seven stages of depression, Steve Rogers Has PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:39:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOutCastAyh/pseuds/TheOutCastAyh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the accident, Steve take to easier ways to ease the pain. Drinking helps, sleeping doesn't really help. He just needs some time alone, but Bucky Barnes neglects his sadness and space to make him forget the pain and worry. Shoving him into "live the moment" pools of adrenaline. What happens when Steve's new cure is happiness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aye, Ayh here! I almost did not post this because I completely forgot it was Friday. :) I haven't done a "Fanfic Friday" in centuries and I cooked up a small fic to cheer up the soul. I enjoyed writing it, it helped me do something with my summer, and I hope you enjoy it as well. Leave a comment or something, it makes me happy seeing things people have questions on and want to clarify or something they liked and didn't like. Helps me direct myself to what I should watch out next time in my writings, so feedback helps. :) If you'd like. I actually have some thoughts on this, but I'll leave it for the ending. Also, leave a comment if I should leave this as "A day; a chapter" thing or not, and jus post it all now. I think it deserves the spread out, I love this. Actually something I want to do some day, secretly of course. You'll understand when you read, so enjoy! :) 
> 
> P.s The title comes from Sam Hunt's song "Take Your Time"; basically this is based off of it so enjoy :)

The night was quiet, the bar by the river was as rowdy as it always is on karaoke night. Drunks going up and singing slurred versions of _Girls Just Want To Have Fun_ or some unknown song no one remembers or even knows the words to. Like every Friday night there's a crowd of older college kids buzzing in, buying drinks, and then leaving as they sing songs down the pavement. Like any night after the tragedies, Steve goes down to the pub, sits at the bar, orders whiskey on the rocks, and stays the night until closing time sometimes to think about some heavy things he should've done. It was just another Friday night, another drink, and another lonely day in life. The bar tender, a beautiful red head who wears makeup like a pro and shows 'em who's boss to the men who get too feely with a good sucker punch to the face. She walked over smiling kindly, leaning on the bar, and resting her chin on her knuckles.

 

"How're you feeling tonight?" She asked.

"Alright." He said, giving a sympathetic smile.

She smiled back, "Need anything?"

He scoffed, "A lot of things."

She patted his arm, only ever limited to him, "Don't worry about it, Steve, we all need things. It's going to work out." She promised.

He nodded, staring at his untouched drink.

"Not feeling it today?"

He shrugged, "Whiskey's starting to get old already." He said.

"Want something else?"

He shook his head, "It's alright," he sighed raising it to his lips. "To another day." He said before downing the drink and placing it down.

She smiled, "Call me over if you need anything else. Alright?" She said, looking over her shoulder to someone calling her for a drink. Walking off he sighed, looking over his shoulder to the crowds around.

 

There were the bikers, some of them were actually mean while the others could be a friend in just seconds. The casualties like him, always there with a friend or alone. The occasional people who'd come by, or the new ones who'd get piss drunk and can't walk straight for more than half a step. Strays all around, and then there was the college group. Always loud, always proud, going up for karaoke, buying drinks, and laughing too loud in the corners. This time they were late, and there was more than one group. There was the loud group, and another branched off to sit at the bar. A trio of a girl, and two guys. They talked lower, laughed quieter, and spoke to each other like it was secret. Maybe they weren't really college students, just young kids who came along behind them.

 

He stared back at his drink, and cupped the chilled glass. Looking back up the girl from the trio branched off to go back to the group, and left the two guys along the bar. Natasha, the bar tender, walked over having a small conversation but it was kind and laughable. They laughed, and she refilled their drinks before walking along. Before long, another branched off to the group leaving the stray man lonely there. He sat there quietly, drinking his drink, and looked around. Not seeing Steve, he looked back down until Natasha came around and beamed up at her. When the conversation came short, his smile faltered and Steve watched how lonely this kid really was. How he faked a smile and how his happiness was running low, out lived by loneliness.

 

Steve gestured his hand and Natasha came over, he debated on whether he should ask his name or not. When she came over, it was already too late.

"What's up?" She asked, leaning on the bar at his level.

He thought about it, and pressed his lips together. "Uh.. never mind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I -," he paused, "Never mind." He said, "Could I get a refill?"

"Sure thing, boss." Taking his glass, she walked along the bar in front of the guy for the whiskey refill.

 

He lit up again like a high volt light bulb, and she smiled holding the glass full. Shrugging and talking back, Steve stared between the two, and he made her laugh. Both laughing she had to gesture the glass and he nodded watching her go, getting to Steve they had eye contact for the moment before he dropped his gaze. Steve stared over Natasha's shoulder.

 

"Here you go." She placed it down on a napkin.

"Who's the kid?" He asked.

She looked over her shoulder, "Oh, he's one of the college kids. James." She smiled, "He's got a sense of humor."

"Guess he does." He clasped the glass. "He's sitting at the bar than with his friends?"

"Says he's not feeling the groupie vibe, he's more of a lone soldier." She said, shrugging. "Guess you've got something's in common." She wiggled her eyebrows.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that again."

She shrugged again, "Guess he's off the table then, he's quite the looker." She teased, walking along and Steve looked James' way.

 

He sat with his head down, looking at his cup with such remorse and loneliness. His slicked back hair shine against the neon bar light, his cheekbones looked hollowed against the shadows, and his eyes so brightly blue it out beat the sky in midday any day. Focusing back on his drink, he sighed before taking a sip of it and enjoying it much slower.

 

The second time someone went up to sing a song was a slurred version of some Brad Paisley song, now this one Steve knew. _She's Everything._ He looked over his shoulder to the singer, even slurred he could hear the song playing through his head normally through his voice. His heart thumped in his chest, and from the corner of his eye he could see Natasha looking over with this sympathetic look the moment he downed his drink.

 

_She's everything I ever wanted._

_Everything I need._

_I talk about her, I go on and on and on._

_She's everything - to me._

_She's everything to me._

_Everything I ever wanted._

_Everything I need._

 

Standing from his chair, he looked to Natasha putting down the money for the drinks and gestured to the door. She smiled softly giving a wave, and he headed towards the door. When the music was gone when the doors closed, he could feel his eyes burn with the urge to cry. Rubbing them, he took out his keys heading for the parking lot. Around the corner the smoker's area was rowdy, smoking rising into the air. Glancing over, Steve drew his coat closer and looked both ways on the street ready to cross.

 

"Listen, take a step back."

Looking over his shoulder, Steve looked to the smoking area where a woman stood with a man, behind them another man was towering over someone. That someone being the kid from the bar, a smoke between his lips, he had his back against the wall by an inch.

"I don't want any trouble with you." He said, shoving the man's chest and he just came right back.

Staring, Steve didn't realize he was moving until he could smell the smoke and he was going to have a childish asthma attack if he stood there for more than a few minutes.

"Back off!" James shoved again.

"Hey!" Steve muttered, the couple moving out of the way. The two looked at him. "He bothering you?" Steve pointed to the man, and James nodded. "I think he said to leave him alone, now why don't you listen to him, and get out of here?" He said to the man.

He scoffed, "Fuck off." He waved his hand at Steve, and pressed it into the wall blocking James in.

Steve put his hand on his shoulder, "I said leave him alone."

When the man went to push Steve off, he grabbed his arm, and twisted it backwards shoving him against the brick wall. Steve held tighter and the guy yelped in pain.

"I ever see you around here messing with the kid again, I won't go easy on you." Pushing him away, he stumbled to his feet and out of sight.

Standing there, Steve looked to James.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," he paused, "Thanks."

Steve nodded, "Don't mention it. Next time you come out, make sure a friend comes along." He suggested and he nodded.

James nodded, scratching out his cigarette, and Steve moved along towards the street again. "You're leaving?"

"It's late." He said.

"You're not going to let me buy you a drink?"

He scoffed, "I've had too much already." He lied, "Doesn't take much to make me feel sick." Raising a hand, he pressed his lips in a small smile. "See you around."

 

James raised his hand, watching Steve jog across the street, and thank the car that stopped. Getting to his car, James had already went inside, and Steve was soon pulling out to the street. Thinking about it that night, everything on his mind, he could've used that extra drink. The nightmares came and he was at the wheel again, behind the wheel on a rainy day, windshield wipers at it's highest speed and yet he still couldn't see the road. He was arguing, but trying to calm the nerves of both of them. Their yelling got worse, and he was waving a hand around when both of them should've been on the steering wheel. Before he knew it, going fast down the empty road, a curve came up, and at the last moment he saw the guard rail leading into a small ditch. He woke up before the car could flip.

 

Gasping for breath, covered in sweat, he curled up into the blankets crying as loud as he could. No one could hear him but the neighbor's, even they didn't care. With as much sympathy as anyone in the hospital had, he didn't say anything about it the next day he saw them.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! So I guess I'll make this a chapter a day thing. I have seven chapters, and two already up so. Enjoy! :)

Another Friday at the bar, he sat in his usual seat with his glass of whiskey on the rocks. Natasha had come over any time people weren't calling her for a drink or just to chat her up and try to flatter her. She wasn't keen on kindness to strangers, she could put down the rejection card so easily for them, and not give a care about it. Coming back over, she leaned on the counter, and pushed up both her cheek with her fists staring at Steve. He looked at her, and looked in amusement.

 

"What?"

She shrugged, "You look like a lost puppy every time I come over here."

He scoffed, smiling softly.

"You could be one, who knows?" She commented. "Have you gotten in touch with Sam or Tony?"

"No, why?"

"Because you need someone to drink with."

"I think I'm fine with drinking alone." He said.

She shook her head, "No, no, no. You need someone to drink with, someone to bond with."

"Then why did you say _Tony?_ You know we don't get along."

"It was worth the try." She said before looking over her shoulder to someone calling. "Duty calls." She said, walking away.

 

Watching her go, he missed the fact that the trio was sitting at the end again. A blonde, perky girl, a dark skinned, handsome man, and James. Walking over to them, Natasha lit up smiling at them and they did the same ordering drinks. James looked down the way to Steve, and raised his hand in a _hello_. Steve did the same back, and cupped his glass. Going back to their little conversation, the blonde jabbed her thumb behind her to the group and walked off. Smiling kindly, the dark skinned man tapped the counter and patted James' back leaving with his drink. James sat alone with his drink and Natasha, she looked more serious now, and nodded as James told her something.

 

Steve looked away when James looked his way, and Natasha walked over. Putting down a whiskey glass, he stared at it in confusion up at her. "James says he owes you a drink because you did something for him last weekend." She raised an eyebrow, "What this _thing_ is I'm curious." She joked.

He looked down to the cup, and over to James. Sipping his drink, James put it down and nodded. Looking back to Natasha, he pushed the drink out. "Tell him I said thank you, but I can't accept it."

"Come on, he's doing something nice for you."

"That's why I said thanks."

"Steve," she said reprimanding, "Just accept it."

He stood up, grabbing the drink, "I can't." He said, walking along the bar end towards the empty seat beside James. Startled, he sputtered drinking and looked to Steve. He placed down the cup, and James stared at it. "I appreciate it, but I can't accept this."

"It's a drink." James scoffed, "I owe you."

"You don't, we're even."

"Steve here is a bit hard headed." Natasha said leaning on the counter. "I think he gets it from his mom, that woman was a strong lady."

Steve looked back to James, "Thank you for offering." He said.

"Well, that's not fair." James said, "You swoop in, and save the day, and I can't even do anything half as good as that."

Steve sighed, pressing his lips together.

Natasha glanced between the two, "Steve, just let him pay you back." She said.

"It's the least I can do, after what you've done for me. You could've just walked away, but you didn't."

Still curious to the situation, Natasha listened.

"I'm James." He held out his hand, "James Barnes, my friends call me Buck."

Glancing to Natasha, she gestured to his hand and he sighed. Shaking his hand, he looked him in the eyes. "Steve Rogers."

"Great to know your name finally." He said with a kind smile. "Sit, even if you don't want to drink, have a conversation with me."

"I have to actually get going." He lied, "Have to get home."

"Oh." He said in defeat, "Rain check on it."

"Sure." He mumbled, giving a wave to Natasha and having her glare at him.

"Get home safe." Bucky said, and Steve stared a moment before turning.

"I will." Walking out of the bar, he sighed walking over to his car getting inside. Sitting a while, he stared at the bar door open and close as people walk in and out. Pressing his lips together, he looked to his hands on the wheel.

 

The memory coming back in sight with his hands on the wheel, knuckles white, the rain pounding on the car in sheets, the headlights on too bright. He could see the guard rail feet from the car, and the sound of it breaking the same moment thunder crackled in the air. It vibrated in his arms, and a gaping moment made him feel empty inside. Letting go of the steering wheel, he looked at his hands to the suntanned ring shadow on his finger. No longer there, the ring shadow remained as a haunting memory. Turning on the car, he turns into the street and drove home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) I hope your day is going good and is going to be good. I'm heading to work. Enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! Your daily chapter has arrived. :) Enjoy.

When Friday came again, Natasha was ready with the whiskey and glass as usual, the college kids sitting in the corner and at the bar. Ordering drinks they slowly branched off towards the table in the corner, and leaving the trio at the bar. Only this time when the blonde girl moved along, she was walking along the bar towards Steve. Leaning on the bar beside Steve, he glanced to her and she smiled.

 

She held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Sharon."

He stared a moment before shaking her hand, "Steve."

She smiled, "I notice you come here every Friday when the college kids come along, or at least you're here when _we_ are." She paused, "And you're normally alone."

He scoffed, "My plan has been soiled." He joked, snapping his finger.

She smiled, "I like your sense of humor."

He raised his glass to his lips, "Thanks."

"Would you like to join us sometime? We're always welcome to new comers."

"I'm thankful for the offer, but I'm happy where I am."

She pressed her lips together, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you."

She nodded defeated, "You know," she slipped into the empty seat beside him, "She said you'd do that."

"Who?"

"The bartender. She said you'd decline and you'd sit here all night."

"She did, now did she?" He looked up to Natasha with a smirk, shaking his head. She was too busy in a conversation with Bucky and the other man.

"Yeah, I wasn't supposed to tell you that though." She said lowly, "It's our secret." She joked, "Besides, it's a lonely life when you put yourself somewhere where there's tons of people to talk to and don't."

"Guess you know the feeling."

"Not really, but I'm all ears for knowing new things."

He scoffed, and sighed. "Look, I appreciate you doing this, and Natasha, but I'm happy right here."

She nodded, standing up. "The offer still stands," she said, "We're here every Friday after eight. Just come right over and we'll have a seat for you."

"Thanks."

She smiled, "It was nice meeting you, Steve." She turned for the college kid's tables, and he was left alone once again, but not for long. Buck was slipping into the seat not too long after, whiskey glass in his hand, and his drink in the other.

Putting it in front of Steve, Steve scoffed and Bucky stared. "You know, you could join us."

"I'm fine, thanks." He said, pushing the glass back to James.

He sighed, taking the glass in hand. "Do you think I poisoned it or something?" He joked.

"No, I just limit myself."

"Right," he nodded, "You're a 'light weight drinker'." He said, turning the glass in his hand. "No light weight drinker drinks whiskey as a drink." He said, holding the glass out. "You, my friend, are a very horrible liar."

"No thanks."

There was frustration in Bucky's eyes, and he put it down. "What's your deal?" He asked, "You come to the bar alone every weekend, order the same drink, and leave around nine thirty every night. No one goes to bed at nine thirty saying _it's late_ unless they're a grandpa, how old _are_ you?" He joked. "Live a little."

"I've lived enough." He mumbled, and he wasn't supposed to say it like that, but that's the way it came out.

It brought sadness to Bucky's face.

Steve held up his hand, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, you're trying to pay me back for nothing, but I'm good." He drank his whiskey, and stood.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, or if I'm bothering you." He said.

"You didn't." He put on his jacket hanging on his chair. "I have to get going."

"It's not even nine yet." Bucky said, turning in his stool as Steve zipped up his jacket.

Steve pressed his lips together, "I have a lot on my mind."

"Spill it then, talking about it helps." He insisted.

Steve stared, an apologetic smile on his face. "I'm not ready to talk about it." He said in a lost breath, and put down the money for the drink. "See you." He said, tucking his hands in his pockets heading for the door. Glancing back before opening the door, he could see Bucky looking over the crowd to him with a sad look, and Natasha just seeing him with a confused one. Closing the door, he brushed his eyes and walked to his car.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! Chapter update. Enjoy. :)

It wasn't Friday but Steve was feeling the need to drink a bit, the nightmare replaying over and over for the past nights kept him up. Walking into the bar, he sat down in his seat and Natasha came over with confusion in her look. "You alright?" She asked. He was early, and it was Thursday. Something wasn't right.

He waved his hand, and sighed. "Could I just have a drink?" He asked, closing his eyes and listening to the country music someone had picked to play in the bar.

Putting down the glass, he cupped it like it was life or death. Taking the first gulp was like chilling ice down his throat, refreshing him. He put it back down, and kept his eyes closed. "You sure you're alright?" She asked, "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, "It's been rough." Is all he said, leaning onto his hand. "I'm just a bit sleepless."

She frowned, "Maybe you should talk to someone, get it out of your system."

"I'm fine." He waved his hand.

"No, you're _not_." She said, "Stop saying that, you're not okay. You need help, Steve." She reprimanded. "It's natural to grieve but you can't keep dragging yourself down more, it's not your fault."

"I never said it was."

"You sure imply it." She pointed at him, "It's not your fault. You know it, and you'll realize it one day or another. Take care of yourself, or let someone do it for you." She said, frowning again.

He stared, tears brimming his eyes, and putting down the money he stood up. Without another word, he moved along with his head down. Opening the door and stepping out, he wiped his eyes quickly, turning for the street instead of his car. Turning he crashed into someone, and they both stumbled back.

"I'm sorry." He said, voice gruff.

"It's alright. -Hey, bud, you okay?"

Steve looked up to Bucky looking at him concerned, and he felt like everyone was staring at him even if there wasn't anyone else on the sidewalk. He walked around him, "I'm alright."

"Hey, hey," Bucky grabbed his arm, Steve still wiping at his eyes. "It's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you. Just - _breathe_."

Steve took his arm out of Bucky's grip, and shook his head.

"How about a drink? Get you to sit down?" He offered.

"I'm alright, I'm fine." Steve mumbled, sniffling.

Bucky stared, sympathy in his tones. "Look, _I_  know you're not okay, _you_ know you're not okay, how about we just make it easy for each other? I'm alone, you're alone, let's hang out." He said, "Come on, I'll buy you a drink, we'll talk about it."

"I don't _want_ a drink."

"Then we'll go for a walk." He said, stepping beside him, "Come on. I know this place in town that makes these amazing pizzas for cheap."

Steve stood in his spot, staring at this stranger who wanted to help him if it meant babying him.

He stared at Steve, "Come on." He gestured standing a few feet away, "We'll miss the best seats." He insisted, waving his hand down the sidewalk, and Steve exhaled.

 

His chest shook, and he glanced to the ground as he walked. Walking up to Bucky, he sniffled before Bucky started walking along silently. At every street corner they stopped at the green light waiting for the walking man symbol to appear, and at every cross walk they waited for a generous driver to flicker their lights for them to go, and Bucky thanked them. Not once did he ask any questions, he didn't pry, and he didn't over step any boundaries. Steve kept sniffling, his head tucked down as he watched the cracks on the sidewalk pass, and the movement of their feet. Giving a shiver, Bucky tucked his jacket closer to him and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

"Damn, any colder and we'll be in winter by the next hour." He commented.

 

Severely cold falls weren't their thing, New York wasn't a cold place in the fall or winter. The coldest they'd get is minimum 40 degrees but lately the winds have been picking up and the rain feels ice cold. It'd probably be the coldest winter they'd get, ever. Bucky's breath could be seen floating as they came to an intersection waiting for the signal to go through, stuffing their hands into their pockets, Steve watched the headlights pass over his eyes, and he was behind the wheel again.

 

The car tossed off the road and into the small ditch, there was a short scream before there was the loud crash, and he could feel the air knock out of his lungs as he never blinked once. He could feel the glass shatter from the windows and the rain poured in on the side of his face, he couldn't see through flickering eyes trying to blink away the droplets, but he couldn't move his body. His breath was ragged, and he let out a groan in pain as he twitched his fingers to life.

 

" _Hey_."

Bucky's hand on his shoulder made him blink back to life, the walking man blinking on the other side, Bucky stared at him.

"You okay?" He asked again, and the lump was forming in Steve's throat every time he asked.

Steve nodded, and Bucky sighed.

He gestured to the cross walk, "Come on, before the light changes." He mumbled, tucking his collar up as they walked.

Getting to the small parlor, it was a warm, cozy place. Booths lined the walls by the window, bar stools along the counter, and groups of kids stood in bunches along them leaving the booths empty. Giving a few workers a smile and wave, Bucky looked to Steve.

"Sit where ever you feel comfortable." Said a waitress gestured, giving Bucky a recognized, big smile.

Bucky smiled back and looked to Steve, he gestured along the parlor. "The choice is yours."

 

Looking around, he gulped before moving right and down to the empty booth in the corner. Bucky sat across from him snatching a menu from the counter and sliding it out in front of Steve, already coming over handing Bucky a decaf cup of coffee the waitress walked off, and he reached over dumping as much sugar as possible into it. Steve stared at his little entertainment show, and when he glanced up at him, Bucky smirked.

 

"What?" He asked, dusting aside the sugar on the table, and stirred it in.

Going back to the menu, he wasn't really hungry. He put it down, and looked around, and out of the windows. The shades pulled over them as cars passed, Bucky took a sip of his coffee looking at him.

"So, what're you going to get?"

Steve looked to him as if he weren't even talking to him, "I'm not really hungry." He mumbled, closing the menu.

"Come on," Bucky opened the menu on him, "Try something at least."

"I appreciate you doing this, but really I'm fine."

"And I believe you," he lied, "Just pick something." He raised his cup.

He sighed, "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I'll pick for you." He joked, looking at the menu upside down. "You a meat eater or veggie?" He shook his head, "Forget it." He looked to the counter, "Missy, can we get two house specials. Tell Jake to make them with extra love for me, I miss his cooking." He said to the waitress behind the counter.

"Sure thing, hon, I'll have it right up, just for you." She smiled.

"Thank you, beautiful." He smiled right back.

"Look, you really don't have to do this." Steve started again, and Bucky wasn't really listening as he grabbed the sugar packets and started stacking them up on each other. "I really should be getting home, I have work in the morning, and I have to get up early." He lied, he quit his job because of what happened. Of what _shouldn't_ have happened. "I think I should get going."

"And let me sit here eating alone?"

"I said I didn't want anything before you ordered -."

"But I already ordered for you, and it'd be a waste if you left." He stared, "Besides, I've got tests in the morning and you don't see me running about like a chicken with my head cut off. I've got things too, and I made time for it." He leaned on his elbows, "Come on, don't leave. I've been trying to get a talk out of you since you helped me out."

"Why?"

"Well, like I said, no one's done that for me. I wanted to thank you, pay you back in some way."

"You did by just being safe after."

"Yeah, but that doesn't count for me. I want to help you out on something big, something life changing." He said enthusiastic, "I've always wanted to change someone's life."

"Why would you want that? What if you made it worse?"

He shrugged, "Life comes with ups and downs, you just have to learn to live with it, or at least cope until you find a way out of the situation. Even if it means scrapping your knees a bit more."

 

Steve stared, and looked down at the table, the sugar packs stacked up like a deck of cards. This kid, this college kid was sitting here kicking him lifeless just for a conversation. He had a whole future ahead of him, a whole night to spend with friends, and he was here with a stranger. Steve shook his head, and Bucky looked up from the house of sugar packets, he stared.

 

"What?"

Steve scoffed, "Don't you have better things to do than sitting around here? Talking to strangers?"

He shrugged, "All I've ever known were strangers. I don't really have friends, I don't even know what their names are."

"What about those kids you hang out with at the bar?"

"Sharon and T'Challa? They're really all I've got. I don't talk to anyone else."

"Then you know people."

"Not enough." He said. "It's like standing in a crowd of people, even if you know all of them, their names, and their lives, you still feel lonely inside." He focused on the stacking and Steve looked down at it, "There's a difference between knowing someone and having someone. When you have someone, you know every single thing about them, knowing something is just as good as not knowing they're alive." He grabbed two more packets to stack onto the already four packets tall stack. "That's the sad thing about the world, you don't know someone's alive until you meet them, then it's like this whole world you've missed out. Gets you thinking how big is this world really?" He flashed a small smile, looking up as Missy put down fries in two baskets, and a milkshake for Bucky.

"What would you like to drink on the side of your meal?" She asked, looking to Steve. "We have milkshakes, soft drinks, coffee, tea, juice, milk,-."

"Uh, no thank you, I'll be going soon." He said.

"Come on, don't do this." Bucky said, and looked up to Missy's confused expression. "Just get him some juice or something."

"Coming right up, just call me if you want anything else, you're orders will be right up." She said over her shoulder.

Steve looked at Bucky, and Bucky to him. "What's your deal?" Steve asked.

"I offered you food, the least you could do is sit here and enjoy it with me." Bucky said.

"I didn't ask for it."

"You didn't have to. I wanted to do it."

"Why?"

"Because, no matter what you're going through someone else is going through worse." He said, voice low but jabbing. "You won't see kindness because you're in too deep sulking in dark corners and hiding behind facades, you need to stop dragging yourself deeper, and try letting someone else do the tugging for you." He finished just as Missy came along with a cup of Apple juice, tray on her arm with slices of cheese pizza, and sauces on the side.

"Here you two are, garlic sauce, ranch, and some ketchup for what ever on which ever." She said, putting the tray under her arm, "If you need anything, don't be too afraid to call my name." Smiling she walked off and Bucky continued as if nothing happened.

Picking up his pizza, Bucky glanced to Steve as he sat back in his seat staring at the window. Tears in the brim of his eyes, he fought the urge back, and Bucky put down his food reaching for the napkin dispenser and placing it down in front of Steve. "I won't make fun of you, I promised." He said lowly, picking up his food again.

Steve snatched a napkin from the dispenser and pressed it into his eyes, still face to the window, Bucky glanced at the side of his face until he looked forward pushing the dispenser back. Looking at the food, he slowly reached up and picked at the paper plate under it. After a while, he ate silently along side Bucky.

Over and over reaching for his cup of coffee until it was finished and then drinking the milkshake when he was done, he'd pushed aside his plate and focused on Steve chewing in his crust. "Have you lived in Brooklyn all your life?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

Steve flicked pizza crust from under his nail, "Yeah." He mumbled.

"Same here, I don't actually plan on leaving New York. If I do, I'll leave to serve in the military. Even then, I'd still come back here when my terms are up." He said.

Steve glanced to him, "You want to enroll in the military?"

"Already have, I'm just waiting on the letter back. I finish college this year, and next year I'm hoping I get into the enlisting. That way I can know for sure I'll be in the army."

Steve nodded slowly.

"How about you? What do you do?"

He scoffed, "Nothing."

"You said you had a job, what do you do?"

Steve pushed aside his plate and half empty fry basket, "I manufactured items and then shipped them out to the dock."

"What kind of items?"

He shook his head, "Stark Corporation things."

Bucky's eyes lit up, "You mean like - weapons and stuff?" He leaned closer.

"Not really. National defense equipment."

"Cool." He smiled, "The coolest thing I've probably done is break my arm on a carnival ride at Coney Island." He shuffled off his jacket, pulling down the collar of his shirt. "I've got the scar for it, goes all around my arm, had to get surgery for it." He said, showing Steve the scar just around the socket of his arm and shoulder. "Got it when I was 17. 4 years later, I'm still living with it."

Steve nodded, sipping his drink. "You're 21?"

He smiled, "Yeah, how do you think I could get drinks at the bar?" He scoffed, "I'm officially 21, as of my birthday stating so. I turned it just this February."

Steve hummed in acknowledgement.

"And you are?" He trailed off, extending his hand.

"Why are we on this subject again?" He asked.

"I specifically remember you asked the question, and since the conversation has turned against you I believe this is the part where you confess your age. You can buy legal drinks at the bar, so over 21." He smiled, humming as he thought. "21?"

Steve scoffed, "Higher."

"30."

"I'm offended," he commented, voice a little lighter, a little light hearted, "Lower." He said, corner of his mouth hiding a smirk.

"28." He squinted.

"Lower. "

Bucky stared, squinting, and puckered his lips. "It's definitely 23."

Steve didn't say a thing, just stared.

"It is, isn't it?" He smiled wider.

A little twitch of his mouth gave him away.

"It is!" He hollered, laughing, and raised his arms. "You're a 90's baby. Welcome to the club."

In Bucky's happiness, rather contagious, Steve fought a few smiles and sipped at his drink.

Bucky pointed, leaning down, "Is that a smile I see?"

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Is it?" He smirked. "Did I just see you smile? You're hiding it. I see it."

Steve managed a straight face, and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't."

"You did though. You did." He smiled, "I bet," he paused, "I can get you to laugh by the end of the night."

"There's no bet because I'm going home now."

"No, you can't." He whined.

"Why not?"

"You'll ruin the moment." He joked. " _Our_ moment. A spark."

"The only spark you'll be seeing it the blinker of my car driving away." He shifted in the seat to move out and Bucky held his hands out.

"No, come on. Sit a while longer, have a chat, we haven't even finished our drinks yet." He said.

Steve looked to his one fourth cup still full with apple juice and Bucky's half full milkshake, sinking into his seat, he sighed waiting.

"Come on, just make the bet with me."

"I have work in the morning."

"And? I have a test in the morning. I'll get to it and finish it just like the rest. Just make the damn bet." He pouted lightly, "Come on." He held his hand out flat, palm up on the table.

Steve glanced to his hand and then his eyes, he looked so tricking and would always get what he wanted. But he also looked always kind, always giving, and always having the heart to hear out anyone's day no matter how quick, slow, or broken they spoke. He would sit there, lay there, with those big, blue eyes and he would listen. He looked to his hand again.

"If I can make you laugh by the end of the night, then you get your wish and you can go home. I won't bother you again, for anything." He held out his hand, and it looked promising. Soft maybe. "I'll even turn the other way if I ever find myself walking towards you. What do you say?"

Steve stared at him, "You're making a childish promise."

"And I'm proud of it, just shake my hand already." He said, looking at him and his hand.

What did he have to lose really? It was just a laugh. He could fake a laugh, and go home early. He sighed, lifting his hand, and going to shake it. "What happens if I don't laugh?" He asked out of curiosity.

Bucky shrugged, "Then it was a night wasted eating pizza and fries, and talking to a stranger. Sounds good to me really." He flailed his hand again. "Deal or not, pal? My hands cramping up over here." He joked.

Steve shook his hand, and Bucky's hands were soft, strong too. Bucky smiled brightly, shaking their hands together, and snatching fries some Steve's basket.

"Alright then, you've got yourself a deal." He said, and looked to Missy. "Miss, can I get two snacks to go?"

"Sure, what will it be tonight?"

"Surprise me." He smiled, and she waved her hand walking off to grab desert. He looked to Steve, "Missy's known my family for a while, practically watched me grow up. Kind of strange but I don't really have a problem with it."

Coming over with a paper bag, she held it out to Bucky and he smiled taking it.

"Thank you, Missy. You're the best."

"I know I am, anything to help you, I'm in for." She pinched his cheekbone, turning for the counter.

He gestured to get up, and stood himself. "I'm going to head to the bathroom," he shoved the dessert into Steve's hands, "Don't disappear on me." He patted his arm, walking to the bathroom.

Looking over his shoulder, he put down the bag on the counter and Missy looked over to him. "You don't come here." She said, "I've never seen you around."

"I don't really get out much." He said.

"Let me guess, James dragged you out here?"

He scoffed, "Does he do that to everyone?"

"Not really." She wiped the counter, the college kids already grabbing their jackets after having paid.

"What do you mean?" He asked, but didn't mean to. Missy was already answering anyways.

"He always comes here after he passes a test or his friends go out to party and he doesn't feel like it. Normally comes around Fridays at ten, walks into the door at 9:45 exact every night. Gets the same thing, sits in the same spot, and goes off on his own again. He's an independent kid, his heart is pure."

He nodded, "Yeah, I can tell."

"Too many people come along just to use him," she eyed him, "Whether it's for money, or for anything else, they taint his heart. You using him for anything?"

He put his hands up, "No, I would never. I actually wasn't supposed to come out here, he brought me along-."

"As long as you're not hurting him intentionally, then we're good." She leaned on the counter, "He's a good boy, listens even when you think he isn't. He has a gift for people, always knows what's good for the soul." She mumbled on, "Even if you're a stranger to him, make sure he gets home safe, and that he's happy. He deserves nothing but happiness, and protection."

Steve nodded, "I will." He said, and she nodded.

Bucky came along the counter, seeing Steve still there. "Thought you would be gone by now." He said, grabbing the desserts.

"You said not to run off." Steve said, as Bucky walked around him.

"Normally everyone does the opposite." He said, and in his voice was sadness of memories. Kneeling on the stool, he leaned on the counter. "See you Missy." He closed his eyes, leaning his face forward.

"See you sweet heart." She kissed his cheek, and he hopped down from the stool. "Be careful out there, and take care!"

"I will! You know I always do!" He called after saying I love you to her, and walked out. "What did fairy god mother give me this time?" Opening the bag, he let out a happy cackle. "God, I love that woman." He closed it again, and looked to Steve. "I might of just found a slice of paradise for you." He thought, "Question is where do we eat it?"

"You could've eaten it back there." Steve pointed over his shoulder.

"No, we need somewhere fun. Somewhere big."

"There's no _we_."

"Sure there is," he nudged his arm, "We're pals now, buddies until the bet's over. You'll survive, don't worry." He said, and looked around. "Let's see, where to go." He clicked his tongue, both standing on the corner of the intersection.

"Central park?"

"No, bigger, but I like the thinking." He pointed, still looking down the street. "Oh!" He smiled, starting to walk. "I have an idea, but we'll need some things." He latched onto a bit of Steve's jacket, and tugged him along. "Come on." He said, and Steve shuffled after him.

It wasn't before long they were standing in the electronic aisle of the dollar store, picking up some batteries Steve followed Bucky along holding the bag. "What're you getting?"

"Things," he looked over the aisles as much as he could, "Missy didn't give us forks," he took the bag, "Could you go through the aisles and find some?"

"Why can't we go back and get some?"

"What's the fun in that?" He asked, avoiding grabbing anything with him there. "Go on, before the dessert gets cold."

Walking along, Bucky quickly grabbed what he needed and went to the check out lines. Steve came just along as she was putting the batteries in the bag, "I was looking for you."

Bucky tossed the set of plastic spoons on the belt and she wrung them up, putting them in the bag, giving the total he paid for it grabbing the bag. Bucky handed back the dessert bag to Steve.

"What'd you get?"

"Side dishes for the desert. It's not complete without a few ingredients." He said, and moved towards the exit doors.

"Like what? What'd she even give you?" He unrolled the top, but Bucky took it.

"You'll spoil the surprise." Carrying the bag, and dollar store one, they moved along the streets.

"I don't like surprises."

"This is a good one though." He smiled, "Oh, also got these." He reached into the bag and held out a two pack of gloves. Pink gloves. "It's all they had though, the color suits you I think." He joked.

"Very funny." He held them out.

"Do you want cold hands?"

"I have pockets."

"Pockets don't help for anything. Put them on." He said, and Steve reluctantly put them on holding out the remaining pair. Putting them on himself, Bucky laughed. "We match now." He joked, and nudged the big grump. "Lighten up, I have a night to make you laugh. In the end, you get to go home anyways."

"Where are we going?" He asked, long after they'd walked along the main streets and into the back roads.

"Somewhere - out there." He described.

"That doesn't help."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adventure begins! Aren't you excited to see what happens? :) Where do you think they'll go?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! Sorry for the late update, it's been a lazy day. Enjoy. :)

Walking along, they _were_ heading towards Central Park but with other things in mind. "I thought you said we weren't coming here?" Steve stated, watching as Bucky slowed.

"I know, but I have an idea. I just remembered something."

"What?"

 

He put his finger over his lips, and they moved along silently. Bucky looked around frantically, and then looked back to Steve again. He was still there, thank god, and waved his hand forward. Steve leaned forward around the bush they were hiding behind, and looked to what he was gesturing to. He couldn't really see it though, the walk way lights dim and far from seeing.

 

"What?" Steve asked.

Tugging that small end of his jacket again, he was pulling him along, and looking around as he did. No one was around, but he felt like they were bound to get caught some how.

"What're we doing?" Steve asked, and when Bucky let go of his sleeve he looked up.

Bucky hopped up on the steps, "Tadah!" He mumbled, extending his hands to the empty performing stage, and out before them was an empty field of nothing but shadows.

"We shouldn't be up here, we could get in trouble."

"Oh, come on. You're not going to pull that now, are you?" Bucky grabbed his arm this time, "Come on, there's no one here. Besides, they left this thing out an extra day from that Fall Festival crap, it's their fault. They should know better." Pulling him along, he stepped out dead center of the stage, and looked up to the massive thing. It arched up above them, and all around were walls. In front was a massive opening, wide enough for a crowd far and to the side could see them. "It's incredible, I'll give them that." He said. He turned to Steve, holding out the dessert bag. "Here, hold this. I need a picture of this." He said, taking out his phone and taking a few pictures before taking a selfie with Steve in the back.

"We should get out of here, before some one does call the cops on us-."

"There's no one around, calm down." He grabbed the bag and crouched down, "What's all your worrying about? Didn't you do anything this fun when you were younger?" He sat down.

Steve lingered on his feet, "No, I didn't have time for it. I had school and work."

"Sounds rough, now sit." He said, opening the dollar store bag, and pulling out a bag of chips and holding out a can of dip. "Could you open that?"

"Dip? You went to the store, for chips and dip? That's your meaning of side dish?"

"No, this is just a snack." He said, taking the dip when it was opened, and opening the bag. "Want some?"

"I'll pass." Steve mumbled, looking around again. After a while, Bucky nudged him.

"Stop worrying so much. There's no one here." He huffed.

"We're not supposed to be here."

"There are a lot of things people aren't supposed to do, but they're still doing them out there, right now." He said, holding out a chip with cheese dip on it. "Like this, eat it." He gestured it, "Go on."

"I don't -."

"I know you're trying to be polite and everything, maybe it's how you were raised, but just take the damn thing."

Sighing he took the chip, and Bucky stopped pestering. "I was raised to know the difference between want and need."

"Obviously you don't know the difference between them, it's blurred for you."

Steve furrowed his brow, "No it isn't. I know what I need and want, and I don't need you telling me my life."

"No, that's want. You want me to stop talking, but you need someone who's willing to talk back to you the same way instead of talk over you all the time."

"And why do you get to choose my life?" He said defensively. "You don't know what I've been through."

"And you don't know what I've been through, and yet you've seemed to have figured me all out? We both don't know each other, and we're assuming the wrong things."

Steve didn't know what to say, Bucky was right. They had preconceived notions about each other, and thought that the other was judging them in all reality they weren't. He stared wordless.

"So, how 'bout we do this? We tell each other who we really are, and we clarify the real us using our own judgement and words. Not someone else's." Bucky said, shuffling until he was facing Steve with his legs criss crossed, the bag of chips between them.

Steve looked at him, both sitting closely with a foot between them for the first time.

"I'll go first." Bucky said. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes. My friends call me Bucky." He gestured to Steve, and he inhaled slowly.

"My name is Steve Grant Rogers, my friends don't call me anything." He paused. "I haven't talked to them for a bit."

Bucky frowned, "Why?"

"Don't want to talk about it." He said.

He nodded slowly, and cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm in my last year of college. I go to the university here, I'm an art major, but I want to enroll in the military and serve at least three terms." He gestured.

"I did not go to college."

"What if you did? What major would've you gone for?" He asked.

He thought about it, "Well, I was kind of good at art."

"So art or music." 

"I'm a horrible singer." He said, shaking his head.

"So, art major. Maybe we would've had classes together if, you know, you decided to go to college four years ago." He scoffed, and nibbled on a chip. "What else? What did you want to do after high school?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I was a kid, I had plenty of places to go, but I waited too long."

"Why?"

He shrugged again, "Too much to choose, so I got scared to take a chance, and jumped at the wrong time."

"Didn't stick the landing, I see." He shuffled for his pocket, and picked out a cigarette box. "Do you mind?" He asked, already grabbing out his lighter.

"Uh, don't." He said, "I have asthma."

"Oh," he stopped, "I'm sorry, I didn't know." He placed down his cigarette box, and lighter on top. "I didn't know." He repeated, and Steve nodded. "You know, my sister used to have asthma. Real bad one too, always got sick, and worked herself into an asthma attack because she never took her medication." He smiled, "She hated it."

"Sounds rough."

"Yeah, she hated taking her medication. Took so much."

"For what?" He asked, shuffling a bit closer, picking at the chip bag.

"Tons of stuff. Asthma, bone growth, vitamins and stuff like that. She, uh, wasn't too well as a baby, not as a kid either."

"I'm sorry."

He pulled his knees up, folding his arms on them, "Don't be, she's happier now." He picked at his sleeves, "Wherever she goes." He said softly.

Steve stared, "Did she," he frowned, "Did she _die_?"

Bucky stared at the string he was picking at on his sleeve, "Yeah." He mumbled, "She was only eight, and she wasn't doing so well. But she was happy when she went, and I was there until the end."

Steve frowned, "I'm so sorry." He said, not knowing what to do. Was putting his hand on a stranger appropriate? Was he allowed to comfort Bucky? "I didn't mean to pry."

"Nah," he shrugged, "It's alright, I don't mind talking about it. I mean, it's life, right? Things happen that get you down, and you have to pick yourself back up and start over again." He shrugged again, "It's whatever."

Staring, Steve didn't know what to do or what to say. He wanted to say something to cheer him up maybe, say something clever, and be praised for it. Did he really want that? Before he could say anything, Buck was talking again.

"She used to call me Buck too, a lot actually. She's the only reason everyone else started saying it, by everyone I just mean Sharon and T'Challa." He mumbled, "The name's stuck ever since, and I'm kind of glad to have a little piece of her still with me. Even if it was so long ago." He said, looking at Steve. "Her name was Rebecca, we called her Becky." He smiled, "She was beautiful." He said, voice high sung even for a hushed tone.

Staring at him, Steve lightly smiled in an assuring kindness and Bucky's eyes wandered up to his face. It didn't render until he returned the same soft smile, and then he burned up brighter smiling.

"You're smiling." He pointed in shock.

Steve's smiled slowly dropped, "No I'm not."

"You so were! I saw you!" He laughed.

"It doesn't count."

"You still smiled, I've never saw you smile before." He said, and Steve shook his head. "I like your smile." He said, watching Steve return his gaze back to him. "I _really_ like it. It's cute."

He scoffed, shaking his head, and smiled again.

"See! You're doing it." Bucky laughed, leaning down and trying to get a look at him hiding his smile. "Come on, smile." He said, patting his arm. "It's healthy for you, you punk."

Steve pointed, "That doesn't break the bet though, I'm still running."

"I didn't know this was a race to win. Let's see who cracks first. I'm betting it's you." Bucky smiled.

"You're so on, I'm not going to laugh."

"That's a bluff. I got you to smile, I'm going to get you to laugh, you watch."

Steve shook his head, and Bucky smirked. Both looked up to a flashing light over their faces, and squinted to look.

"Shit." Bucky scrambled, and it made Steve panic.

"Hey! What're you doing up there!" A police man yelled, and Bucky grabbed the bag, Steve grabbing the other.

"Run! Run! Go!" Bucky muttered, and Steve hurried after him. Running along side each other, they looked over their shoulder to the bouncing light following behind. Reaching out, Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and pulled. "This way." He said, bringing them over the bridge and the officer followed further behind. Weaving through the trees, and around the trunks, Steve glanced back and quickly grabbed Bucky by the arm. Pulling him down, they crouched down low behind bushes. "We should be running." He whispered.

"Shh." Steve said lowly, both of them watching the distant flashlight beam waving around. Soon it was gone, and for a while they sat in silence listening to the crickets and nothing else but their breathing.

Being the first to look out, Steve stepped out of the brush and Bucky followed. Looking around, Bucky grabbed his arm. "Come on, before he comes back." He said hushed, and Steve went along following. Far enough down the path, Bucky burst out laughing. Hunched over and holding his stomach, he cackled loudly, slapping his knees and stomping. "Did you see the look on your face when we got up?" He exampled the facial expression.

"That was not my face! You should've saw yours." He said, "You were the one who got caught in a lie, _no one's here, no one will find us._ We were in the middle of attention on that stage for crying out loud!"

Bucky laughed, throwing his hand on Steve's shoulder. "I can't believe you ran into the trees, your first instinct is to hide?"

"I don't really have much option. It's all I've ever done." He said, a little heart behind it.

Bucky wiped his eyes, shaking his head, and patted Steve's back. "Come on, I think that was well deserved for a drink." He muffled a giggle rubbing his eye, and they walked along the lit path now.

"Just _one_."

"Alright, just one." He chuckled, "Whatever you say, _Road Runner._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A drink indeed for Steve. :) Two more chapters and you all have your ending. I asked before but I guess no one really noticed, what do you think about this little fic? Do you think it's good as it's own little thing, or do you think it should be an actual story? Leave a comment telling me what you think, I'm kind of in between deciding.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! With your daily update, sadly, one more chapter and it is the end of this little fic. But I ant to give a big thank you to several people for commenting, many like ColeIsADreamer, CaliFornia, Kage_Nightray, waiod_64, and more to come hopefully. :) Thank you for the helping comments, and the kudos, on your thoughts about the characters and plot, and even helping me out between certain words, and phrasings. Leave feedback if you'd like, or just drop by and say hello or hi if you're shy. :) Enjoy the chapters to come.

Walking into the pub, they looked around before walking up towards the bar. Ordering a drink each for them, Bucky could see a pool table in the corner and smirked instantly. "You know what they called me in college?"

"What?"

"Pool King." He waved a twenty dollar bill, and gestured to the pool table. "Come on." Walking over with his drink and handing Steve the bags, dessert bag in the plastic one, he stepped in when the game on the pool table was over. The other player who was competing was an older man, looked nothing more than a trucker or maybe even a biker from a big rat pack of muscular older man. A salt and pepper beard, and bandana on his head to salute the red, whites, and blues of America."You play a mean game?" Bucky asked, leaning his hands on the table.

"Who's asking?" He leaned on the other end.

Bucky shrugged, "Just me, wondering if you're as good as you play out to be." He teased.

"Put your money where your mouth is and find out."

Bucky glanced over his shoulder to Steve, winking, and turned back over to place down his twenty dollars and grabbed a stick and queing square to rub on the edge. Stepping back to Steve as the guy set up, he glanced up at him. "Casual disagreement revs up the opponent," he said lowly to Steve, "If you get someone mad all they think about is their own pride and how loud their voice can go in anger, play the card all the time you'll always win." He whispered.

Steve shook his head as the older man turned, gesturing to the table. "Ladies first."

Bucky put his hand up still holding the stick, "Age before beauty." He mumbled, looking back to whispering at Steve. "Anger is a human error, to themselves and others. Once they back fire at the wrong time, it's funny to watch people recoil at their own mistakes." He smiled widely. "Alright, alright. I'll go." Bucky said loudly, and stepped up to the first move.

 

After a few more hits back and forth, Bucky's balls were all lined up and one after the other they fell into their slots. Aiming the last ball into a hole, it smoothly and slowly tipped in. Leaning up off the table, he stood with a victorious smirk and a small crowd around the table clapped. Steve even joined in, and he was the first person Bucky was looking for with that victory. Collecting his money and the thirty he'd won, he stepped over holding it up.

 

"See what I mean? Gramps over here, too busy in the comments, focused in on it and lost." He said to Steve.

"Or because you've probably played pool every day in college."

"Doubt it. I've only played twice, and both times I won enough to buy an apartment of my own." He flickered a smile.

"Hey, pipsqueak." Called Gramps.

Bucky smirked, "A rematch." He whispered to Steve, taking a swig of his drink, and turning. "Yeah?"

Gramps pointed at the table again, "Let's play another one, for real this time."

Bucky turned to Steve, wiggled his eyebrows, and stepped away. "Alright, but I'm not the fault to any crying."

"You'll be the one crying a river." He said.

Bucky smirked, "We'll see about that, Gramps."

 

Playing another game bidding his 50 dollars, Gramps bidding another 30, Bucky played the game like a trick. He laid back letting only a few play, and in the end when a few of the solid colored balls remained he went back in at shooting. Lining them up, one shot after the other they fell into place, and he was walking away with the winning 80. Walking back to Steve who'd sat down at a booth beside the table, he kissed the money holding it in front of Steve's face.

 

"Go on, kiss it." He smiled.

"I'm good." Steve pushed his hand away.

"Come on." Bucky smiled, "I just won us 80 bucks."

"You technically won twenty, the rest was his money." Steve stated.

"Why do you have to be such a downer? You know," he waved the money at him, "You hurt my feelings." He joked, pouting.

"I do?"

"Yeah, you make me want to cry myself to sleep."

"Guess, my job is complete here then. Time to go home for me." He stood.

"Ha ha, very funny." Bucky pushed his chest back, and he fumbled back on the seat. "Our bet still isn't done, I've got one laugh to gain." He folded the money, putting it into his pocket. "One more drink, and we're out of here." He pointed at him sternly.

"No more drinks."

"Yes, _more_ drinks. It's well deserved and worth it, come on." He said, and Steve stood up grabbing the bag.

"Hey," they turned, "You're not leaving, are you?"

Bucky glanced up at Steve, and back over to the table where Gramps was on another bidding war.

"Ducking out, pipsqueak?"

Bucky scoffed, "We were getting some drinks, but if you're up for another ass beating then," he raised his hands, "Who am I to deny the temptation?"

"Come on." Steve whined, grabbing the edge of his jacket.

"It'll only take a few minutes, don't worry." Bucky assured, stepping around him. "We'll be out of here after, promise."

 

Sitting back down at the booth, a small crowd starting forming, watching the show, and even putting their own bids in. The two went back and forth between shooting, and the white ball went back and forth on each ends of the pool table. A tight squeeze at the end, more solids than striped balls on the table. Bucky showed no nervousness, and with every shot of the old man he laughed. When Bucky's turn came, he calmly moved along gracefully and with every shot - he'd won. When he'd snatched the money off the table, Gramps looked damn well pissed about it. Turning to Steve and holding up the money, Steve smiled and nodded.

 

"Hey." Said the gruff Gramps.

Bucky turned to him as Steve walked up beside him, ready to step in at any moment to defend him. Bucky had to push the envelope, "I won fair, maybe if you squared your edges a bit more you'd win." He said.

"Let's just go." Steve said, pulling his shoulder back. "We've got our share, let's just go."

"Not after a drink, relax, relax." Bucky said, waving his hands down.

" _Bucky_ , come on."

Bucky stared at him strangely. Steve's never said his name that entire night until just then, it sounded foreign off his tongue, but in some way - it made his stomach churn, he didn't know if it was good or bad.

"You think you can just come into _my_ bar and walk out like nothing?" Gramps neared, shoulders hunched into defensiveness.

"We don't want any trouble." Steve said, talking a side step between the two. Bucky just behind his shoulder right shoulder.

"Should've thought of that before he walked up in here, making a mess of the place. It's between me and him, not _you_."

"Hey! With all due respect, we're sort of a package." Bucky said, "Raise your voice at him, and you'll have to talk to me." He growled, stepping around Steve's shoulder and planting himself inches in front of Gramps.

Steve held onto his arm, but Bucky didn't move back.

"Well, isn't that pretty? A pair of boys being the new rat pack of town." Gramps glanced to them, "You've got a mouth on you kid, it'll get you in big trouble 'round these streets. You'll get beat." 

"Who's gonna do it?" Buck scoffed, "You? Looks like I'm the one who beat you just now, Gramps."

Steve tugged back Bucky's arm, but he pulled it right back standing his ground. At a second attempt, Bucky let his shoulder get tugged but didn't move far. "Bucky."

Gramps glared, all means of raising a fist and clocking Bucky in the jaw. He raised his hand alright, and Steve moved forward, but the moment he did - Gramps unfolded his hand between them, and held it out offering.

Bucky glanced down at it in confusion, but then raised his own hand. Shaking their hands together, Gramps' face lit up like a Christmas tree and he let out a jolly, Santa laugh just a little rougher and sandy in the throat. Shaking their hands heavily, he clapped Bucky on the back roughly and all tension was lost. Steve was he only one left confused, and Bucky was laughing along.

"You've got a spark in you kid. A dangerous one." Said Gramps, shaking his shoulder. "Keep it, and you'll make it through the day alright. Good game out here."

"Thanks, Gramps." He smirked.

"You getting a drink?" He asked, only towards Bucky.

"Yeah, planning on a drink or two before heading out."

"On me." He said, raising his arm. "Nick! Give this guy some drinks! His boyfriend too. They earned it!"

The bartender looked over nodding, already whipping up a drink or two.

Steve and Bucky both clamped up, faces red, and nervous. "No, he's not my boyfriend -." Bucky said. 

"We're not dating -." Steve gulped.

"Don't worry about it kid," he patted his shoulder, "Love who you love, don't let anyone else tell you who you can't date." Gramps clapped Bucky on the back again, "Go get 'em." He said, turning back for the table. "I got a few more suckers to beat." He chuckled.

Bucky turned to Steve smiling nervously, and turned for the bar. Going to follow, Gramps eyed Steve.

"You've got something too." Gramps said, leaning on the stick. "You've got heart, and a strong one too. If it's built like a bull, you better protect it from harm. The best get hurt too much." He warmed, turning for the table. "Enjoy the night."

Steve nodded turning for the bar where Bucky sat down, and sliding up beside him Bucky handed him his usual whiskey. He raised his glass, "To - the owner of 260 bucks, and a victorious night." He cheered, clinking his own glass against Steve's still on the bar.

Steve shook his head, and sat down beside him. Seeing the clock, he scoffed. "It's already so late."

Bucky looked to, seeing it was already two in the morning. "Wow," he stared, "It is." Looking to Steve, he shrugged, and went back to drinking.

"The food's probably cold." Steve reminded, putting the bag on the counter.

"Right," he leaned on the counter calling over the bartender. "You wouldn't have a microwave in the back some where maybe, or something to heat up our food?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Bucky held up the paper bag, "Mind doing us a solid?"

"What do I get?" He asked.

"A nice tip." Bucky smiled, tipping his glass up.

The bartender waved his hand, "I'm just pulling your leg, keep it." He said, and waved back to the other bartender. "I'll be back."

"Don't make it too hot, just run it for a minute." Bucky said, and Steve took his glass.

"So? Can I know what it is yet?"

Bucky smiled drinking, and didn't say a thing.

Steve just nodded, and watched the water drip down the outside of his glass. Pursing his lips, he took a breath, "I really appreciate what you're doing for me tonight." He said, this time not out of wanting to get out of it, or humiliation, but content.

"Not everything's about you, Rogers." He commented.

Steve looked over, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes a guy gets lonely, he won't admit it, but he does." He said, pushing his glass aside and grabbing the other. "Maybe I just wanted to hang out with someone I didn't know and have that feeling of not knowing what's going to happen next again."

"Really?" Steve teased. "You were lonely? How?"

"What do you mean how?"

"You're artistic, funny, wild, and young. Everyone looks for that in someone, and you should always be surrounded by people."

"Is that a statement or an opinion?" He scoffed in disbelief, neglect of his own needs.

"Opinion." He said daringly, and Bucky looked up st him with wide blue eyes. "I think you should be surrounded by people, just because you're not afraid so much about what any one says or does. You always go for things, no matter the consequences. Everyone should get to know a guy like you in their lives."

"Stop joking-."

"I'm serious." And he was, he stared. "You're something special, and everyone doesn't know it because they think you're just some ordinary guy but you're not. You're interesting."

Bucky scoffed, smiling and his stomach doing flips. He was being praised, and nothing felt more rewarding than being praised for something good. "I think you've had enough drinks tonight." He joked, taking the drink out of Steve's hand.

"You've been bugging me all night to have a drink, and now you're taking it away from me?" He smiled, watching Bucky place it down.

"When you drink, you get heart felt."

"Maybe it's just how I am." Steve said.

"I know what you're like-."

"And what am I like?"

Bucky went quiet, a shade of pink in his neck and face, and he shrugged his shoulders. "I.. I don't know." He chuckled nervously, "Stupid?"

" _I'm_ stupid?" Steve raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you.. you punk." Bucky smiled, punching him in the arm lightly.

"We'll see who's the punk when I beat you at pool."

Bucky perked up, "That a bet?"

"You bet your ass it is."

"You're on." He smirked, grabbing his drink, and chuckling.

 

Steve smiled widely, shaking his head, and taking his drink again. They drank another drink, and grabbed their things when the bartender came back with the stuff in the bag. Thanking him and leaving a tip anyways, they headed out of the bar after Gramps had giving a farewell and drove himself and his biker gang down the road in a sound of hollers and revving engines.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think this should be an actual story or should remain as perfect as it can get here? Leave a comment, I'm considering the story part. :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, Ayh here! Technically, it is not over yet. The day is still here. Here is the update, enjoy. :) Minutes before midnight.

Crossing the streets, Bucky and Steve walked along side eachother talking. Bucky laughed as Steve told him about the time he went to Coney Island as a kid, and he fought back the urge to just laugh out. Bucky was burning in happiness, smiling so brightly, and laughing so loudly - in some way, Steve wanted to capture it in a photo, and just keep it to show people what true happiness looked like. It wasn't until they'd gotten just by Times Square that the lights sparked in his eyes, and even those didn't compare to Bucky. He was like a firecracker, hot to the touch, and yet to exciting to hold in his hand. Bucky would reach back and grab Steve's arm to guide him along the crowd, he'd point to the Broadway plays going on, and they'd pass performers in the streets. All Steve could see was his bright smile, and his happiness. Bucky hailed a cab on the way out of the Times Square, and both of them sat in the back in comfortable silence.

 

Steve had the window open just enough for the window to glide over his face as he leaned his head back on the seat, he was getting tired, and yet this hype inside of him wouldn't let him sleep. At least not while Bucky was there. Looking over, Bucky's hand was out of the window gliding over the wind as he smiled in content. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in the seat, and the cab moved soothingly over the road. Bucky said Red Hook, Red Hook was over the Brooklyn bridge, back where Steve's little apartment was in Brooklyn. Manhattan is where he brought himself every Friday, every night at eight just to talk with Natasha at the bar or just to clear his mind on the way. He always used to love Manhattan, not anymore.

 

Watching Bucky, he rolled his neck slowly and opened his eyes looking at Steve. He smiled with such warmth it radiated off of him, like it wasn't natural for someone to be so happy in their own skin and their own life. Steve smiled back, and found himself burning up. His face was pink on the cheeks, and it was like his body was in the summer sun again instead of fall weather. It was something about Bucky's being that made him happy as well, he didnt know what though. Just as the cab pulled up to Red Hook, Bucky handed the cab driver the money and a tip, and they started walking again. The streets dark, and foreign to both of them.

 

Walking along towards the terminal, Bucky looked around before walking closer to the fenced off terminal area. "Wait, wait." Steve grabbed his wrist. "We're not going in there, are we?"

"Yeah, I wanted to show you something." Bucky said, "It's amazing, trust me."

"It's being surveillanced." Steve pointed to the sign.

"Then we'll move in the shadows."

"Buck," Steve grabbed his arm again.

"Come on, Steve, don't you want to go in there? The place is abandoned, no one goes in there but kids."

"We're not kids, we could get charged for entering on private property."

"Steve, trust me on this, it's all worth it up there." Bucky pointed to the terminal, an abandoned factory building on the ends of crumbling. "It's beautiful, and this is a once in a life time guide tour of it." He said, "If anything goes wrong, I'll take the blame for it. You go and get out of there, and I'll stay."

Steve sighed, shaking his head. "No," he sighed again, "Not without me in it." He looked around, "Hurry up then, I don't want to get caught."

Bucky smiled, and gestured towards the fence. "Come on, I know a way. Hopefully it's low tide right now."

 

Walking along the fence, they kept quiet and kept low, walking close to each other they moved along towards an unguarded, empty building. Part of it hung off towards the water, and a small ledge just feet behind it. Bucky carefully shuffled down, squatting so he could duck under the missing wall, and into the stone room where they could get into the factory. Steve slowly doing the same, the small waves lapped up on his ankles like it did to Bucky. Helping him up, they looked around as Bucky reached into his pocket for his phone putting on his flashlight. The smell of musk was heavy, and Steve didn't bring his inhaler. He hadn't had that problem in years, but he worried about it now.

 

Bucky gestured towards the hole in the ground, "Come on, just another obstacle course and then we're good." He said, voice echoing through the empty halls. Getting down on a slanted floor, he ducked again on the opposite wall and, walked along the gravel ground showing from the low tide. Steve followed behind closely, never missing a beat or step, and hoisted Bucky onto a high ledge into a room. Pulling him up, they stood in the room and Bucky flashed his phone along looking. "It's darker than I remember." Bucky said, nudging Steve. "Watch the floors, they have holes in them." He said, and aimed his phone to the floor.

 

After several stairways, open floors, and one missing walk way to stairs they collected long beams of wood making a bridge across. Carefully Steve stepped onto it and his heart racked his chest like a hammer, holding onto the incline of the stairs beside, Bucky held out his hand and guided him along to the other side. Up the stairs, they walked along the left hand side and Bucky could see the break still in the wall, nothing but the open air. He lowered his phone, and pointed out.

 

"And I reveal to you, the main event of the night."

Steve looked up, mouth agape.

"A whole city of New York from here." He crouched down, sitting on his bum slowly, his feet hanging off the edge. "And it's free." He smiled.

Steve slowly sat down, mouth open wide. "This is -," he gulped to find the word but only looked at Bucky, "It's amazing."

Bucky smiled, looking to the view. "Especially at night, when all the lights are on, or only a few are left on. Really shows the world as a painting."

"Really does." Steve said, looking back to the view as Bucky took out the food bag, and opened the dollar store one. Opening the package of batteries, Steve watched him, and scoffed. Bucky bought lanterns, not normal ones, little ones shaped like ghosts and skeletons. "I can't believe you."

"What?" He said, pulling the tags off the hand sized lanterns, and putting in the triple A battery.

"You bought lanterns. Not just any, but _Halloween_ lanterns."

"Halloween just past, I could use these for next Halloween. You just watch." Bucky pointed, and gestured to some others. "Pull the tags off of them, and help me instead of criticizing me."

Helping, he pressed in the batteries and pushed the little buttons. The ghosts and skeletons lighting up white. "They change colors."

Bucky turned one on, and smiled as it changed from blue to white to green, red, then blue again. "They do." He said, pressing all the buttons and watching them change colors slowly. "How cute."

Surrounding themselves with lanterns, they sat in a semi circle near the edge facing each other with the dessert bag between them.

Bucky reached inside, and frowned. "They got cold again."

"What'd you expect? It's cold out."

"Only when the wind comes by, other than that it's actually bearable." Taking out the containers, he held out one to Steve. "I present to you - Funnel cake."

Steve took the plastic container in his hands, and smiled. He's never really had funnel cake, except for that one at Coney Island. It brings back warm, good memories. "Last time I had this was at Coney Island," he said, "It wasn't as good as I wanted it to be."

"Well, this is the best damn cake you will ever have." He held up his finger, "Hold on, I have our side dish." Taking out the chips and spilled dip, he pulled out a small container from the freezer at the dollar store. Two pints of Ice cream.

Steve smiled brightly, and when Bucky opened the container he held it very still.

"Come closer, it's all melted." They scooted closer together, and Bucky tipped it lightly. "Ready? If this gets everywhere, everyone will know we were here and we can't have evidence." He joked.

"Ready."

"You sure?"

"Just do it." Steve smiled, and Bucky tipped it over some more as the liquidized Ice cream tipped into his container. It started pooling under the funnel cake, and rising up on the sides making it even colder to hold. "Okay, stop! Stop! Stop!"

"It's not enough!" Bucky laughed, pouring in more. "You need more!"

"Stop!" Steve smiled so wide, holding back Bucky's hand, and holding the container straight in his hand. "Talk about me leaving a paper trail, you're going to make a mess."

"Ice cream's good for you."

"Not that much!" He muttered, sucking the Ice cream off his fingers, and Bucky snickered as the poured the rest into his container.

 

It wasn't longer before they were enjoying cold funnel cake and ice cream on top, talking between bites and over bites about anything in their lives. Bucky told Steve about his home life in Brooklyn, and moving to an apartment after high school to go to the university, working as a mechanic and an indoor wall designer for tattoo shops and café's. Steve told him about his childhood sicknesses and not being very well as a teenager, and Bucky spilled about his sister's sicknesses of body problems. How he used to cheer her up and bring everything with him he needed and just walk around New York with her on him piggy back, and sometimes on his shoulders as a smaller kid of six years old. Bucky would laugh and Steve would see the stars get closer with every crinkle of his eyes, wanting to have him for themselves instead of their hidden new moon in the sky. Things got serious when Bucky spoke about his parents, and by serious - it he gotten _sad_ , quickly.

 

"Just when Becky was getting better, even for a bit, I remember," he scoffed, leaned against the wall by the opening with Steve in front of him a few feet away. "I remember going to the hospital and visiting her, my parents drove me there, and then went off to get some things. Ending up having to go to Manhattan for the medication for Becky. I was in the room, and they'd made Becky go get washed up and the nurses came in asking where she was. I honestly thought it was some kind of problem, you know, maybe we'd missed the bills and didn't pay again but no. It wasn't." He paused, "Our parents got into a car accident, and ended up flipping on the Brooklyn bridge." He pressed his lips together, "They didn't live, their injuries were too severe."

Steve frowned, and he felt his heart lurch out of his chest in pain. "Bucky, I'm -." He stopped. What was he going to say? Or do? If he said he was sorry then Bucky would think he was pitying him, no one liked to be pitied because it only added more weight. Nonetheless, he leaned closer even if it meant nothing, and stared with sincereness. "You don't deserve anything bad, and yet it always happens to the good people. You deserved better, a family, and returned love from them."

Bucky smiled slightly, "Thank you." He whispered, and glanced down. "I did have a family, and I still do. They're just somewhere I can't go yet, and I'll wait for them forever. They would do the same."

Steve's brow turned up in the middle, showing a loss and damage in Bucky.

Bucky raised his hand, "I'm fine, truly, I am. I've come to realize that death is natural, and it'll happen to all of us. I won't wait for it, and it won't wait for me, I'll live until the day I die. As simple as that." He smiled, "Until the end of the line."

 

Steve stared, thinking how this kid could be so strong and he can't even confess his sins. He looked out to the city, empty containers off to the side, Ice cream bin empty, and the lanterns still changing colors all around them. He felt a weight in his chest as he mustered up the right words, Bucky could see the gears shifting in his head, and he furrowed his brow at Steve. Scooting a bit closer, a foot distance stood between them.

 

"You alright, bud?" He nudged his hand lightly against Steve's arm, and pulled up his knee resting his arm on it.

Steve wasn't alright, Steve wasn't close to alright. He kept his eyes on the city, they burned with a need to cry.

Bucky leaned closer, worry in his face. "Steve?" He said lowly, like approaching a hurt animal.

Steve took a slow breath, and forced his eyes to stay open so he wouldn't blink and the tears would fall. "I have something to confess." He said softly.

"What is it?" Bucky said, "It's okay, bud, you can tell me."

He shook his head, "I didn't do anything."

"Then, what's got you worked up?"

"No," he looked up to the stars, keeping the tears back, "I didn't do anything - to stop it from happening."

Bucky frowned, "What?" He whispered, "What didn't you do, Steve? What weight do you have on your shoulders?"

Steve felt Bucky press his hand slowly onto Steve's back, testing the waters, and he closed his eyes. The tears fell, and Bucky's hand grew firm on his back as he sat so closely in arm's reach. Steve thought about it all; he though about the accident, the car crash, the blood, the rain on his face, the silence - and he cried. Bucky rubbed his back lightly, rubbing his thumb onto Steve's spine, and watching him cover his face with his hand. Steve spoke out in broken words, "It was raining, and.. I was arguing." _With Peggy_. "I couldn't see the road." _Couldn't see the guard rails._ "The car went over the rails, and into a ditch.. I," he swallowed the lump in his throat, "I couldn't move," _couldn't breathe_ , "And there was glass everywhere, there was blood everywhere," _it was motionless._ "All I could see was blood, and I couldn't move, I couldn't see," _her_. He clenched his eyes tightly, and grit his teeth as he sobbed. "The hospital, they couldn't.." _revive her_ , "And then," _she was gone._

Bucky tugged the sobbing Steve into his arms strongly, pushing his head into the crook of his neck, and holding the back of his head as both their bodies racked with Steve's sobs and blabbers. Rubbing Steve's back soothingly, he leaned his head against Steve's. "It wasn't your fault, Steve. It's _not_ your fault." He hushed, combing his fingers through Steve's hair.

Steve shifted, staying in Bucky's arms, he leaned his head against Bucky's shoulder looking out to the blurry city. "I couldn't get it out of my head," he sobbed, "I started drinking until I passed out, and I," _wanted to die_. "I can't stand the nightmares anymore, all I see is it."

Bucky held him firmly, one arm around his back, and the other rubbing his head and neck. He'd always do the same to Becky when she'd work herself into a panic attack or asthma attack, not long after she'd fall asleep in his arms. "You know, after my parent's died, I did the same thing. I thought alcohol could erase the memory or numb the pain, it only made it worse," Steve sobbed, and Bucky continued, "It only made me more lost, it only made me feel more empty inside, made me feel alone again. I couldn't live with myself, and especially after Becky's death I couldn't." He rested his head against Steve's again, his jaw against Steve's forehead. "Sometimes, even now I look around and I'm lost without them. I forget how to live or what I'm doing and I just sit around, confused and scared. I cry, sometimes. But other times I remember the good they did, the memories they gave me to live on, and I know they don't want me to be like that, lost and scared, they want me to be happy. That's what I'm doing," he gently shook Steve's shoulder, "I'm _trying_ to be happy."

Steve's lips still trembling, "I don't know what to do." He whispered.

"This is what you're going to do, Steve Grant Rogers." He said, clenching his eyes tightly shut. "You're going to go to bed, and wake up again. You're going to have a cup of coffee, and you're going to look around. Look at all the people living, and you're going to be like one of them. You're going to get back up when you're down, you're going to grab onto anything when you fall, and you're going to hold onto anything you don't want to let go of. But most importantly, you're going to shake off the weight on your shoulder, let go of everything that's once hurt you, and you're going to be happy. Wake up happy, live your day happy, go to sleep happy. It's not easy, believe me, it's not easy being happy when you're rejected or ran to the ground, and it'll hurt while you're pushing through, you'll feel worse, but you will find it." He promised, "You _will_ find it." He whispered, holding Steve close.

 

He wasn't crying any more, nothing but a low murmur of sniffles and hiccups occasionally. He was still blinking, clearing his vision on the city in the distance, the Statue of Liberty in the distance in front of it all. His eyes pink, and his nose stuffy, but he didn't complain. Bucky kept his arms around Steve and he didn't complain, Steve listened to the inhales and exhales of Bucky's breath, and matched it with his own. They rose and fell with each other, and their bodies shared heat that the light tickle of wind tried taking from them. Bucky sighed softly and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against Steve's forehead. It's been so long since he's hugged someone, and someone's stood in his arms comfortable. Fit into the slot of his hug perfectly, he could practically fall asleep right there leaning into Steve.

 

When Steve spoke, his voice was rough, and he sounded drowsy. "What time is it?"

Bucky furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"The sun's rising."

 

Bucky opened his eyes to a lighter sky, a lighter shade of dark blue, turning lighter. Under it were tones of pink and red, the sun was coming up. Bucky gasped lightly to the sky, and Steve leaned up so he dropped his arms. Glancing to each other, they looked to the sun rising and just watched it. The colors grew brighter and yellows mixed with pinks, and soon the sun was breaching the bottom of the streets. Bucky looked at his phone checking the time, and he scoffed. "It's 6 o'clock already." He mumbled as Steve wiped his tear sticky face, rubbing his eyes.

"You have class." Steve reminded, and Bucky looked defeated.

"Guess I do." He frowned, looking to the sun. "Guess we better start down, before someone actually does catch us up here."

 

Collecting their trash into the paper bag and the little lanterns into the plastic bag, they'd wandered out to the street to find a cab. Driving back along the bridge, Steve looked over to Bucky as they rode over it. Not once did Bucky's expression change from neutral to sad, he looked to the passing cars, and continued to stare out the window all along it. Turning forward, he too felt defeated. One of his best nights was his last, he wouldn't meet Bucky again because he was graduating and then leaving for boot camp. Getting to the bar, Bucky paid and they walked over to Steve's car in the parking lot. One of the only ones there. Bucky dug his hands into his pocket, and Steve found his keys waving it around, and remaining in silence as they stood in front of it.

 

"I better get going home, got'ta sleep." Steve said, patting his key again his hand.

"Right, and I have to get to class." Bucky sighed, pressing his lips together and swayed on his feet. "Guess I didn't really win the bet, did I?"

Steve smiled, "Sorry." He joked, and Bucky chuckled.

"It's alright, at least I got to hang out with someone tonight." He smiled.

"Guess it was a _win, win_ then." Steve smiled.

"Guess it was. It was a bust though." Bucky smiled back. After a while of staring at each other, it dawned on Bucky that he should get going even if he didn't want to. "Guess it's time to go then," Buck said reluctantly, "See you around, Rogers."

Steve nodded, and fiddled with his keys. "Bucky."

Turning to the name, Steve rounded the car, and stood in front of him. "What's up?"

Steve paused, "It wasn't all that bad, last night. I enjoyed it." He smiled lightly, "Or at least the good parts of it."

"All of it was good though, well, on my part it was."

"Exactly." Steve mumbled, and looked Bucky in the eyes. "Thank you, for everything."

He shrugged, "It was nothing really, just doing something for a friend."

"It was more than enough." He said, "So, just.. thank you."

Bucky pressed his lips together, and nodded. "You're welcome."

 

Steve nodded back, and standing there, he gave in. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against Bucky's cheek softly and gently grabbed his arm as he leaned in. Stepping back, Bucky watched his every moves with his mouth open slightly. Giving a small smile, Steve turned for his car hitting the unlock button.

 

Bucky found his voice seconds later, "You know, I'm free next Tuesday. Maybe we could do this again?" He called, and Steve looked at him over the car.

"No." He smiled, opening the door.

"You still owe me a bet on that pool game!" He yelled as Steve started his car, and pulled backwards to leave out of the parking lot beside Bucky. "Reign check it for me?" Bucky asked as he pulled up beside him, and Steve raised an eyebrow at him with the window down. "I'll show you on that game of pool, I'll show you. You'll be broke by the end of the night, and I'll be walking home with free money." He said.

In Bucky's enthusiasm, Steve's smile broke and he let out a cackle, a snort in there for accidental embarrassment. Bucky went wide eyed, and threw his arms up.

"I did it!" He cheered, "I made you laugh!" He screamed. "Oh, my god, I'm the king of the world!"

Steve shook his head, and smiled widely. "Do you need a ride to school or what?" He offered.

"Don't worry about it Gramps, school's just around the corner." He pointed, "We're still on for that bet, you can't back out of it." He rounded the front of the car, heading for the other side of the car. "I'll find you if you think I'm joking, we're doing this!" He yelled, heading down the road, and giving Steve a wave.

 

Steve waved back, and couldn't help the smile breaking on his face. His chest light again, and all his thoughts gone and filled with Bucky, Bucky's laugh, Bucky's smile, Bucky. Shaking his head again, he pulled into the street driving back home instead of his lied destination at work. Steve had gotten a piece of himself intact again - all because of a college kid's desperate attempt at not being alone that night. For a little thing called Fate, he begged for more beautiful things to come his way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a glorious ending to this beautiful, little foc of mine. I enjoyed writing it, and I enjoyed showing you all a little, new piece of happiness. Definitely more one shots to come like this, and more stories I'm hoping you'll all like as much as I will. I hope that you are all health or working your way to health, and that you all sleep well tonight, and every night after that. Take care of yourselves, drink plenty of water, and keep safe out there. The world is a dangerous place, but that's what we have each other for. Be kind. -Ayh

**Author's Note:**

> Should I keep this as a one shot fanfic - OR make it into an actual story? Leave a comment telling me your opinion on it.


End file.
